Ultimate Trinity
by Evy Sevin
Summary: This is my story of DC's big 3 before the Justice League. This is a reimagining and the 1st chapter only includes Steel, Superman, Lois Lane and Lana Lang. Please Review.


**Ultimate Trinity**

**Coming Together**

**#1 Replacement**

The girl looked up at her captors with frightened hazel eyes. Her expensive clothes were a mess and her carefully set hair was no better. Two of the men leered at her with dark eyes. Their smiles made her shudder and she shook her head silently. Not that she had a choice in the matter. They had strapped duct tape around her mouth to keep her silent. Ropes also bound her wrists and ankles.

"You're daddy will pay a handsome fee to get you back," one of the men said. "Don't worry, he can afford it, the secretary of defense makes good money."

Suddenly there was a resounding crash and the men spun about, trying to locate the source of the sound. Shattered glass fell from the window in the high ceiling, raining down on them like deadly snow. One of the three screamed as a large almost diamond shaped piece of glass fell into his eye.

The girl whimpered as one of the men turned to her, aiming the gun at her head. A sudden blast of light caught him in the side and he flew away, his body limp. The last man scuttled away from her, ducking to hide from his, as of yet, unseen foe. There was a loud whining sound and then suddenly he was there, in front of her kidnapper. Steel, the nation's superhero, was hovering before the man.

"Please!" the man cried out, he was covered in sweat. The man flung his gun away. "They made me do it!"

A sudden crowd of S.W.A.T. surrounded the captive girl; one of them gently removed the tape from her mouth.

"That's a lie!" the girl shouted out angrily. Suddenly she heard the man choking, but the law enforcement blocked her view as she heard him crumple to the ground gasping and crying at once.

Special Agent Derek Brand walked beside the enormous frame of the armored Steel. They had been working together for years, and the years had not been easy on them, truth be told.

"I'm getting too old for this," Steel told his old partner.

"What are you talking about?" Agent Brand smiled weakly. "You handled them without any help."

"Yeah, and I'm already tired," Steel admitted. His voice was somewhat tinny and had a slight echo from the helmet he wore. He wore a bulky suit of armor that he and the famous engineer Blake Whitestone had designed over twenty years ago. The government had funded their project and ever since had placed the man who would become known as Steel in their employ.

"You know the government expects you to work 'til you're seventy-five," Agent Brand joked.

"Not at this I won't," Steel was serious.

"We have been discussing this possibility on the board you know," Agent Brand confided.

"Oh?"

"I told them that it was only right that you choose your own replacement," Brand grinned up at the armored man. "After all your long years of service."

Steel looked down at the man and shoved him lightly. For a brief second Steel had forgotten the strengths of his mechanically enhanced arms. Brand went stumbling away.

"Oops! Sorry," Steel actually sounded abashed. "I must be getting forgetful in my old age."

Brand rose laughing, brushing off his expensive black suit, "You must be old man."

In Smallville Kansas no one was thinking of Steel and few were even aware that the Secretary of Defense's daughter had been kidnapped. Clark Kent was no exception to that rule. He was just finishing up the morning feeding. The cattle were silent as they munched away at the hay he had set before them. Now that chores were finished he would head back to the house.

He grinned and looked at the small house that he called his own. He was still in debt over it, but with his powers the farm was growing and doing better than any of the others nearby, even his parents. He still went over to help his father do the chores. Lana, Clark's wife, didn't mind as long as he was home before lunch.

He was the luckiest man in all of Smallville, really in all of Kansas, in his consideration. How many people got to marry their childhood crush? How many of them owned their own home with hundreds of acres at the age of twenty-six? Still, though he enjoyed the simplicity of his life, because of his powers he couldn't help but feel he was meant for more.

Every once in a while he let this impulse get the better of him and he would make a few quick detours to Metropolis or some other city to stop a robbery or put out a fire. People needed his help, but his family always came first. Lana, ever since finding out about his secret, had always encouraged him to do what he could for mankind, but he could tell it ate her up inside every time he flew off to do some saving. No wife should have to go through that.

Of course she denied it, but he could see the pain in her eyes, and the relief whenever he came back. She had beautiful eyes. Clark couldn't help but to think of them now. Hazel and large, they were, and full of love. Not only for him but his entire family, Ma and Pa. They were a small family, but close.

Clark raced off to go help his father. It took him a couple of seconds to get there, after all it was across town and he had to dodge animals and vehicles that got in his way. He clasped eyes on his father's farm the farm that he had grown up on. Here he had grown into manhood, discovering his amazing abilities of strength, flight, heat vision, super speed, and invulnerability.

"Ah Clark," his father, Jonathan Kent said once Clark had come to a stop. "I was wondering you would get here. I came out this morning to find that the bales of hay we had stacked had fallen over."

"No problem," Clark raced over to the barn and quickly began placing bales of hay firmly on each other. He placed them on each other faster than the eye could see. He had to be careful to treat them gently or at this speed they would just explode, or catch on fire. It had happened before.

"Done," Clark came back to his father's side.

"So I see," Jonathan Kent said looking up at the forty-foot tall stack of hay bales. "I wonder what made them fall."

"I was probably in too big a rush yesterday," Clark admitted, turning slightly red in the face. "It was getting close to lunch time."

"I don't know," Jonathan Kent removed his baseball cap and scratched his head. "They looked pretty solidly stacked to me."

"Appearances can be deceiving, Dad," Clark clapped his father on the back. He had to be almost as gentle as he could manage.

"I suppose," Jonathan frowned at the stack.

"What else could have done it?"

"You're right," Jonathan shrugged. "Let's go have some water, I'm beat. Besides, your mother wanted to see you."

"You're beat?" Clark asked in mock disbelief. "Must have been all of that supervising." The pair laughed and walked back toward the two-level farmhouse where they had become a family.

Unbeknownst to them a man was crouched behind the woodshed where Jonathan kept the firewood. He was wearing a suit. He pulled out a cell phone and held down the number one button.

"I think we've found him," the man said quietly into his cell. "Tell them I'd stake my life on it."

Smallville was a small town, just like its name indicated. There was a post office and a small library, and there was only one bank. Because they had such a low crime rate the bank was a bit lax in its defenses. It was just the place that John Henry Irons was looking for.

He noted when the guards changed shifts and what kind of weaponry they were wearing. He noticed the habits and quirks off all the tellers that worked there. He also kept track of the boss that was always hiding in his office. This was going to be far too easy.

One of his men was posted near the entrance. He turned and nodded at him. The man nodded back ever so slightly and headed outside to tell the rest of the boys that this was the place. They would be glad to get this little sojourn to Kansas over with. All of them had grumbled at having to come out to the country.

It was all going to be over very soon and he could retire somewhere out in the country. Maybe even in Mexico or some other exotic locale, he was sick of American and its politics. That is, if everything went according to plan. John didn't see why if wouldn't, they had planned everything down to the last detail.

The boys would be out back, strapping on their guns and their bulletproof vests. He had better get ready himself. A strange tingling sensation gripped his stomach. After all, it wasn't everyday that he robbed a bank.

Clark Kent raced home. It seemed if time stood still as he raced past grazing cattle and galloping horses. He raced past cars so fast that the occupants had no chance of seeing him. The breeze he caused as he blew by they would just take as an unusually strong gust of wind.

When Clark raced like this he felt freer than ever, as if he could almost fly. He smiled to himself, nothing could be this feeling. The only that penetrated this sweet feeling was that there was no one that he could share this with. He carried Lana as he ran, but that wasn't the same.

Though it was truly only a couple of seconds that he ran, it seemed as if time ran slow. It seemed to him like it had been at least thirty seconds. He had worried that running could prematurely age him, but so far nothing had happened out of the ordinary. In fact, he looked a bit young for his age, despite his physical bulk that most blamed on hard farm work.

He arrived at the farmhouse just as his watch was turning to noon. Lana would be expecting him. He was surprised she wasn't in the doorway waiting impatiently for him with some water or lemonade. "For someone faster than a bullet you sure are late often," she would say as usual.

Worried that she wasn't in the doorway he raced all the way to it, but was careful to stop just short of it. He would never hear the end of it if he broke their doorway for nothing, again.

"Lana?" he called out as he opened in the door.

"I'm in the living room," she answered. There was tenseness in her voice when she spoke. Something was wrong. He walked as casually as he could into the living room to join her. His hearing didn't pick up another heartbeat, or someone breathing other than Lana. It did pick up the sounds of the television as it blared the emergency news. Evidently the Smallville bank was being robbed.

"Lana," Clark approached her. Family first, he reminded himself.

"Just go, Clark," Lana smiled encouragingly at him. "Go be the hero that you were made to be."

"Lana," Clark was at a failure of words.

"Didn't you hear me? I haven't finished cooking dinner yet," Lana made up some lame excuse. "You might as well go."

Clark nodded at her and gave her his most charming smile before turning and racing out the door that he had forgot to close behind him. Though it took him a few seconds to reach the bank it gave him time to think. It seemed that no matter that he lived in Smallville he never seemed to be able to escape the burden of being who he was, something other than human.

Growing up he had wanted nothing more than to be normal like everyone else, but such was not his lot. Lana seemed to understand it and accept it even better than he could. Even now she was encouraging him to race headlong into danger. Though, in all truthfulness there was little danger for him, considering that bullets bounced off him like balloons.

The bank's doors were locked but that posed little obstacle for Clark Kent, every once in a while known as a Superboy. He easily gabbed the metal handle and pulled off the glass door. He busted through the second doors, letting them fly off their hinges and shatter glass into the thieves' eyes.

Men in dark uniforms stood everywhere with automatic weapons aimed toward the doorway. Why would men with such heavy artillery bother robbing the Smallville bank? Clark didn't pause for thought. There were men with automatic guns invading his home town.

Clark Kent had always found ways to dispose of people like this that had somehow made their way to the Kansas countryside. He wondered what it was that made people like this gravitate this way. Maybe they thought because it was such a small town they would get away with it. That might have been true for most small towns, but not Smallville.

Clark made his way through the lines of men, breaking of the ends of their guns so they wouldn't hurt anyone else. These men were much more organized than the regular criminals that had passed through Smallville in Clark's time. He would knock them all out and then leave before anyone could get a glance at him. That was his usual procedure.

He softly flicked each one of them in the head. He had long ago learned where to hit so that he did the least damage for the most effect. He was moving so fast that by the time he reached the twelfth man the first one still hadn't begun to fall. He reached the thirteenth man and stopped dead in his tracks. Nothing had ever been able to make him do that before.

Standing before Clark was Steel, the national hero, the man that had single-handedly brought Saddam Hussein in for justice. He had done many other things over the years, saving hundreds if not more lives. He was Clark Kent's secret idol. The man that Clark wished he was in the quiet hours of the morning when no one else was present to ridicule or discourage.

Now that he stood still Clark crashed back into regular time. The men that he had lightly flicked were flung from their feet and crashed onto the floor. Everyone jumped in surprise.

"Hello," Steel looked down on him from behind his metal helmet. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

Clark looked about him in alarm. He had never revealed to anyone outside his small family his secret and now here he was among over a score of people after having used both his super speed and his inhuman strength. He did a double-take. The regular cashier wasn't there. Instead it was someone he didn't know. He thought he had known everyone that lived and worked in Smallville.

"Stand down men," Steel commanded. Those of the men with guns in their hands lowered them reluctantly. They looked at their broken barrels in surprise and shock, none of them had said a word. Agilely all of the men behind the counter leaped over it with the agility that only comes with training.

"I was setup," Clark stated, surprised that they had gone to such great lengths just to talk to him, or whatever it was that they wanted from him. "What do you want from me?"

"I wanted to speak with you," Steel told the young man. "In person and in private." Clark heard the tinny voice, but what he didn't tell anyone is that he heard much more, including Steel's heartbeat. Up until that moment Clark had never been sure Steel was truly human.

"But why the setup?" Clark asked.

"I just wanted to make sure you were as good as the rumors said you were," Steel told him.

"What did you want to speak to me about?" Clark asked.

"I think I would like to discuss this in a much more private place," Steel told him, motioning at his subordinates.

"I know just the place," Clark told him. "Problem is that my identity is secret to the town and I don't want anyone seeing me."

"I understand," Steel nodded as much as the suit would let him.

"Would you meet me out by the town sign coming in from Mayhall?" Clark asked. "And make sure no one follows you."

"Of course," Steel agreed. "I'll see you there." Before the nation's official hero could finish his sentence there was a blast of air and the young man known as Clark Kent was gone.

"Alright men," Steel turned to the army men around him. "You heard him, get everyone distracted so they don't know where I am going."

With that simple order the men nodded and rushed out of the small bank they had temporarily taken over. Steel walked toward the back door of the bank. All banks had backdoors.

Back on the smaller of the two Kent farms Lana watched on with the phone to her ear. Her mother-in-law, Martha Kent, was on the end. They both watched with bated breath as men with automatic weapons poured out of the twisted doors of the bank. The reporter was confused.

"Excuse me!" the reporter called out to one of the men. He was wearing army fatigues and, despite his automatic weapon, wasn't threatening anyone. "What is going on here?"

"It was nothing more than a simple military exercise," the man explained into the microphone. No one seemed to notice that the man's rifle was twisted and broken, no one but the Kent women.

"Clark!" Lana exclaimed, horrified.

"I'm sure he's fine," Martha reassured. Deep down she was just as worried as her daughter-in-law.

A rush of wind announced Clark's arrival. "Lana," Clark practically shouted as soon as he slowed down enough for her to hear.

"Clark!" Lana Kent exclaimed, racing over to embrace her husband. "You're alright."

"Of course I am Lana," Clark looked at her seriously. "But there is something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" she stepped away looking at him fearfully. She wasn't afraid of Clark, but what he might say.

"The military came to town," Clark began to explain.

"We know," Lana smiled, figuring that's all that Clark had to tell her.

"They brought Steel with them," Clark quickly tried to establish the gravity of what he was about to communicate with her.

"Steel?" Lana truly was puzzled. What would the nation's hero be doing in their little town?

"Yes," Clark reaffirmed. "He wants to speak with me."

"What about?" Lana asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but he knows about my powers," Clark told her.

"How did he find out?" Martha interjected for the first time. "We've kept it hidden all these years."

"I'm not sure how he found out, but he's seen me in action," Clark shook his head. "I stopped right before punching him."

"What are we going to do?" Martha asked, lowering herself worriedly onto the couch.

"I'm going to find out what he wants," Clark told them. "He's agreed to meet me out by the big Welcome sign."

"I want to come," Lana looked at Clark, daring him to challenge her. He didn't, he knew his wife too well.

"Be careful," Martha looked at him. Her eyes were sad and worried. She stood up before he raced out the door, cradling Lana in his capable arms.

Steel flew out to the old sign. He had studied the schematics and videos on Smallville for days before coming out here. He was lucky that one of his agents had been able to discover the Superboy after a month. Many people had tried to uncover his identity before, but it was thanks to good old fashioned detective work that had led Steel to Smallville. After that it was just a matter of planting enough agents and hidden cameras before they caught their man.

Clark was younger than Steel expected or wanted, but at least it meant that the government could shape him to their needs. A mind as young as his could be trained to be whatever they needed it to be. Now, let's just hope that that blasted wife of his would be willing to let him go.

Steel's own wife had balked at him donning the suit, but in the end John Henry Irons had won out. Eventually they had split when Abigail could no longer take the pressure of being the national hero's wife. John looked back on his time with her in sadness. All good things must come to an end.

He arrived at the sign, but didn't see anybody. Maybe Kent was making sure there was no one else there. He didn't blame the farm boy turned super hero after the reputation the army had received lately. Steel hated to see his followers fall in the eyes of the public, but they were cracking under the pressure of trying to win a no win war and maintaining a ridiculous balance of respect and aggressiveness. The President's reputation wasn't helping any.

"Kent," Steel called out, he didn't want to wait too long. Someone could discover them and ruin their secret meeting. He needed this. He wanted to retire and the only other super hero was Batman and few viewed him as anything more than a psychologically disturbed vigilante.

"I'm here," Kent said. He had been standing beneath the little boardwalk on the sign all along. "Can you follow me?"

"Not if you move like you did when you entered the bank," Steel was serious. The boy was quicker than even his specialized war suit could track. His war suit could track bullets.

"I won't go that fast," Clark promised. "Just make sure to try and stay close and fly low."

"Alright," Steel didn't trust this boy anymore than he did anyone else, but he wanted to. This boy was his only real shot at getting a replacement any time soon. Steel lowered his altitude until he was no more than ten feet above the ground and nodded at the boy.

Superboy, as the newspapers had taken to calling him, turned and ran faster than any human Steel had ever seen. Still, John was able to keep up as Clark raced through fields and into a nearby forest.

Steel had a harder time keeping up once they entered the trees, but his suit kept track of the young man's energy signal as he dodged the deciduous trees that covered the land. He wondered where Clark could possibly be taking him. By now they were well out of sight.

"We're almost there," Clark called back to him. Then suddenly the farm boy stopped and Steel forced on his repulsors. Clark stood in a small grove where warm sunlight shone down on them. In the grove with them was a large building much like what John had imagined Robinson Crusoe living in.

"What is this place?" John asked.

"This is my Fortress of Solitude," Clark answered, motioning toward the wooden structure. "I built it when I was eight. I came here whenever I needed to be alone for a while."

"Impressive," John said and meant it. When he was eight he had built forts out of couch pillows and quilts.

"It was to me then," Clark said, looking fondly over at the wooden structure. He had driven most of the nails with his forefinger. "Now I come here mostly for nostalgia. I came here, dreaming I was the heroic Steel, saving the country from evil invaders or super villains."

"That's very flattering," Steel wondered why the farm boy was telling him these things.

"Now," Clark said. "I would like you to see it. Though I have to admit we do have a visitor."

Steel's red flags waved in his mind, "A visitor?"

"My wife," Clark explained. As he said it a young woman almost his exact age came walking out of the Fortress of Solitude. She was very pretty with dark hair that had a tint of red to it.

"Before Clark can even agree," the young woman began. "I have some questions that you have to answer."

"Of course," Steel grimaced behind his mask. He could see who wore the pants in the relationship. This would make everything a bit more difficult, but it was too late to turn back now.

"Is there any way we can try to protect his identity?" Lana asked. She didn't even ask if her husband was going to be safe.

"We will not release it to the general public, if that it what you mean," Steel told her.

"How about some costume to help?" she asked.

"If you both feel that it is a necessary precaution then I'm sure we could arrange something," Steel agreed.

"Will we have to move?"

"I suppose at the speed your husband moves he could transit back and forth from work everyday," Steel said doubtfully. "We will need him in Metropolis constantly. He may be fast and strong, but he will still need to go under rigorous training to prevent injury."

"Will he work directly with you?" Lana asked almost reluctantly. Steel hoped she wasn't going to try and come onto him.

"Yes," Steel admitted. "I will be in charge of training my replacement."

Lana looked at Clark wistfully, and then she looked back at their little Fortress of Solitude. He could tell by that look that they needed some time alone. He had gotten that look many times from his ex-wife.

"I am going to be staying here in Smallville at the local hotel," Steel told them. "When you make your decision, let me know. I am staying in room twenty-five. I won't be in uniform."

"Thank you," Clark nodded at him just as Steel used his boot blasters to lift himself into the air. He looked back just as the two embraced each other and headed back into the fortress.

"Let's hope you don't take too long," Steel muttered at the unhearing Clark Kent. "I need to get back to my duties."

Steel flew back to a small encampment that he and his men had made just outside of Smallville. He was greeted by several questioning men who were waiting to call their bosses with the news.

"What did he say?" one asked. "Will he be your replacement?"

"He and his wife are discussing it," Steel told him as he removed his helmet to reveal a handsome chocolate face. He stripped as the men pressed him with more questions than he cared to answer.

"Now what?" a young soldier asked.

"I don't know about you, but I am going to get a shower and then some rest," John told them.

John Henry Irons toweled off his bald head. A hot shower always felt good after getting out of the suit. When he and his friend had invented the suit they hadn't invented it for comfort. Inside it was hot, though it did have built in coolers and heaters, but it was stuffy and heavy no matter what he did.

A knock came to his door. He threw on the complimentary bathrobe and opened the door. Clark Kent stood in front of the door. He hadn't realized how tall the farm boy was before. Clark just stared at him.

"What's the matter, Kent?" John asked. "Are you surprised that the nation's hero is really a black man?"

Clark just smiled, "No, I'm just surprised at how short you are without the armor."

John smirked, this kid wasn't so bad. "Did you come with an answer? I'd really like to get my bosses off my back."

"Can Lana move with me to Metropolis?" Clark asked.

"Of course," John told him. "We're not in the business of splitting up families, this isn't the military."

"Alright," Clark looked at him. "We'll go with you. As long as there are no hidden surprises in a contract or something I am in."

John smiled, "Son, there are always hidden surprises in this business, but not in the contract." Clark grinned. The U.S. was about to meet its new hero, and Steel could finally retire.

"Are you sure about this, Lana?" Clark asked for the thirtieth time on their trip from Smallville to Metropolis.

"Of course I am, Clark," Lana said reassuringly. "I always knew you were destined for bigger things than Smallville and the farm."

"Then why do I feel that you are hesitant?"

"I had always hoped we could put it off for a bit longer," Lana admitted.

"We can," Clark told her.

"No," Lana told him fiercely. "When destiny comes knocking you answer the door."

"We don't have to," Clark told her.

"Destiny has a way of barging in whether you let her in or not," Lana told him. "Usually with worse consequences."

"If you insist," Clark grinned.

"I do," Lana told him and grinned back.

Lois Lane bustled into the room and everyone got out of her way. She had a pad and paper along with a personal recorder that she would use to jot down any of her ideas that came to her. She would need as much help as possible to convince Americans that this Superboy could replace Steel as the national hero.

"I want the fashion designer in here yesterday and make sure she brings as least three sketch artists in here with me. The one she brought last time made me think that she had lost all sense," she told one of her many assistants that flocked around her. "While you're at it get me a black coffee, no sugar."

"Yes, Ms. Lane," Clara responded, racing off to do as she had been told.

"Where is Superboy?" she asked loudly. Every one of her assistants glanced about trying to find this Superboy, but he was nowhere in sight, instead at the center of the large room stood John Henry Irons.

"Hello, Lois," he smiled. Lois Lane had been a member of his public relations committee ever since his old war buddy, her father, told him she was trying to break into the field.

"Where is he?"

"You never were one to beat around the bush," John chuckled. "Just like your father."

"If we follow your timetable we don't have much time before I have to have this Superboy ready to present to the public," Lois said impatiently.

"I know I have put you under considerable stress, Ms. Lane, but I have one more favor to ask," John told her.

"What is it?"

"He prefers that his identity remain secret," John announced.

"Fine."

"That means no assistants," John clarified.

"What about the designers?"

"The less people that see him without his costume the better," John told her. "If she comes in it will be alone."

"Forget her then," Lois snapped. "What kind of paranoid freak do we have on our hands?"

"He's a good kid."

"Out," Lois ordered her assistants. They were quick to obey and exited before another word could be spoken.

"Okay, Clark, it's okay to come in," Steel said quietly.

"I doubt he can hear you," Lois told John.

"I think he can," John smiled as another door opened and Clark Kent stepped through.

Lois had such a mixed reaction she had a hard time sorting it out herself. Clark was tall, very tall and rather well built, so at least he had that going for him. His thick hair was unkempt and he wore rather plain clothes, jeans with a plain blue t-shirt. In his large hands he held a box filled with personal items, draping out of it was a red sheet with some yellow design painted into the center of it.

"He looks like a farm boy," Lois said disapprovingly.

"Maybe that's because I am," Clark told her with a smile.

"What's this?" Lois asked grabbing at the red sheet. He moved so fast that Lois didn't see it, and grabbed her wrist.

"It's kind of something personal," his grip was like a steel vice.

"Do you mind showing it to me?"

Clark looked at her doubtfully for a moment but then shrugged. He handed John the box and pulled out the long red sheet. Lois stared at it for a moment. The design in the center resembled an "S" set in a shield. It gave her some ideas she could work with. She quickly pulled out her paper and pens.

"What are you doing?"

"You can put it back now."

With a shrug Clark put it back in the box which he retrieved from John as Lois sketched out her ideas on the pad. She looked up at him then went back to her paper, not wanting to lose her inspiration.

"Clark," John said. "This is Lois Lane, as I'm sure you heard, she has been head of my Public Relations for several years now."

"Nice to meet you," he said. Lois didn't seem to notice, she definitely didn't respond to him.

"What size of shirt do you wear?" she asked finally.

"Double-XLT," Clark told her. "Why?"

"The public doesn't trust people in masks," Lois told him, ignoring his question. "We may have to consider altering your look while you're not dressed as Superboy, which reminds me, that name isn't going to work."

"Fine with me, I'm not the one that invented it," Clark told her. "It was the press that made up that name."

"I'll get a team together to think of one," Lois said. "What size waist do you have?"

"Thirty-six, now why are you asking all of these personal questions?" Clark was beginning to get annoyed.

"Since you insisted on being so private I have to stand in for the designer," Lois grumped. "Are you happy now that you've inconvenienced me?"

"I'm not insisting on privacy for myself," Clark insisted. "I have a family to worry about."

"Whatever farm boy," Lois frowned. "What size of shoe?"

"Fourteen," Clark listed off. "My leg measurement is thirty-eight."

"Fine," Lois said grumpily. "That ought to be enough for now. You can go back to moving in."

"Alright then," Clark felt awkward. He stood for a moment and tried to think of something to say. When he couldn't think of anything he turned and left in silence. John smiled reassuringly at him as he left.

"No way!" Clark exclaimed. "There is no way you are going to get me to wear that, especially not in front of hundreds people!"

"Actually it's thousands," Lois corrected.

"You're not helping," Lana glowered.

"Just do as we told you and your introduction will go smoothly," Lois told Clark sternly.

"Lana," Clark turned to his wife.

"She is the Public Relations expert," Lana shrugged. "That's what the government is paying her for."

"Expert or not they're going to think I am some sort of gay fetish superhero!" Clark said in horror. "The only thing they'll want me for is commercials for sex shops and women's pantyhose!"

Lois laughed, it was the first time either had heard her do so in the two weeks they had now been living in Metropolis. "Superheroes are supposed to be bright and colorful, Steel is an exception, not the rule."

"I don't care . . ." Clark began to argue.

"Listen!" Lois' voice turned sharp. "You're going to do as we have planned exactly as I told you and everything will go fine."

Before Clark could say anything Lois walked away to join Steel on the stands. Clark's big reveal was only moments away and he stood in boxers and a t-shirt holding Lois' ridiculous outfit. With a large sigh he used his superspeed to thrust himself into the outfit, careful not to rip it. It hugged ALL of his curves. It was a good thing they had designed the red briefs to go over it.

"Something's missing," Lana told him when he was done.

"Yeah, like my pride," Clark groaned.

"Your baby blanket!" Lana suddenly exclaimed. "Speed back to the place and get it for me, please."

For a second Clark wanted to question her, but then simply shrugged and raced away, taking to the skies as soon as he was out of eyesight. He was back before she could blink an eye.

"This is exactly what we need," Lana grinned.

"What do you mean?" Clark asked with worried look on his face.

"I know that I shall certainly miss being there for you everyday," Steel concluded. "I hope you can show my protégé as much love and respect as you have shown me in my years of service." The crowd clapped approvingly and a few melodramatic people cried at his words.

"And with that, it is my pleasure to introduce to you all for the first time ever . . . Superman!" Lois pronounced with a large grin.

Everyone clapped expectantly looking for someone to come out from behind the curtains. No one did. The clapping died down, and they crowd began to murmur discontentedly.

"Look! Up in the sky!"

The crowd looked up in the sky and gasped in unison. Floating silently above them floated a large muscular man in a red and blue costume. A red cape billowed about behind him. He slowly lowered himself down to the stage and stood next to Lois and Steel. He was taller than Steel in full uniform.

"I am glad to be here to serve America as its official hero," Superman said in the microphone. "Steel has taught me everything he can so you can be confident that I'll be ready when you need me."

The applause from the crowd rivaled what it had been after Steel's retirement speech. Lois grinned at Superman who smiled as well. Behind the curtain Lana smiled for her husband, but sad tears rolled down her pretty cheeks. "Congratulations, Clark, you'll be someone they'll never forget."


End file.
